


Ladies Dead and Lovely Knights

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: femslash_today, F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-18
Updated: 2009-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 13:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fertility magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies Dead and Lovely Knights

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash-Today's 'Summer Lightning' Porn Battle.  
> Extra warnings: Depressing, ritual sex, Uther's a pig.

Uther closes the heavy oak door behind him, its hinges silent, it's closing boom resonating through the corridors. Nimueh turns to Igraine, whose eyes linger thoughtfully on the door's carved wood.

The priestess studies the princess: heavy, flaxen hair collected in coils at her neck, fresh blooming beauty – too young to be a queen, perhaps too young to be a mother. But isn't that always the way? Lambs to the slaughter – brides to the bridal bed.

'Tell me,' Igraine asks, her eyes snapping to Nimueh at last, 'am I at fault – or he?'

'You're not at fault, nor he,' Nimueh replies, crossing over to the girl in two quick strides, and rests her hand on her face, petting her, soothing. 'It is an accident in your making, nothing more.'

'But you can fix it?' Igraine asks anxiously.

'Yes,' whispers Nimueh and kisses Igraine's full, pink lips. Mmm. She believes she will enjoy this siring. 'In a way.' She hands her the mushrooms, which Igraine washes down with a glass of spiced wine.

Nimueh knows the consequences of what they are about to do and knows she is bending the rules in a way that never makes any party happy in the end. But she needs the provisions and protection Uther can provide and this is hardly the first couple to have asked for this exchange. The balance remains the same – isn't that the most important thing? Give and take. Destroy and make. Change is the nature of the universe, the nature of life; the holy cycle.

'Lie down,' she instructs the princess.

Nimueh begins to sing the spell as Igraine undresses and lies back on the bed. Still singing, the witch follows, crawling on all fours over the princess, singing her song into her nooks and crannies. Igraine's eyes roll in her head – the mushrooms have begun to take effect. Nimueh sings more rhythmically. This is deep magic – earth magic – birth magic.

She takes the bowl of ochre and begins to paint the symbols of magic on the princess, on her breasts, on her belly. Igraine gasps and mutters something about tickling. Her legs fall apart. She is breathing fast now.

The room grows warm. The torchlight seems suddenly distant, yet they are bathed in a golden light.

Nimueh sinks her song between Igraine's legs, the notes lost between her folds, urged along the witch's tongue. The princess' eyes open, her mouth forms an O. Nimueh can see she feels it, the song in her belly bursting into power. Arthur – the name flickers in Nimueh's mind.

It is done.

She takes the taste of Igraine in her mouth to her meeting with the anxious Uther in the hall.

'You will have a son,' she tells him, and smiles when he falls at her feet, kisses her hand in gratitude. There is something beautiful, after all, about his need to let the cycle roll on, regardless of consequences. All need is beautiful, in a way.

'Did you tell her the cost of what is now done?' she asks, not able to stop herself.

'She needn't know,' Uther replies, steel entering his voice, and gets up. 'There is no need to worry her with the inevitable.'

_You idiot,_ Nimueh thinks. _You criminal. You murderer. You speak of love and she is nothing to you but a vessel of your own vanity._

She swallows the words, and forces a smile, collects her reward, and rides home.

It is their mess, and Nimueh leaves them to it, the girl who should never have married and the man who cannot see past his own desire.


End file.
